


offer the wolves your arm

by likewinning



Series: little beasts [65]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Consensual Violence, M/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-23 06:36:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4866782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likewinning/pseuds/likewinning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Just like old times, huh?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	offer the wolves your arm

They're outside Wayne Manor, not even to the car yet when Tim unleashes on Jason, pushes him backwards until he's up against one of Bruce's cars and shoves his tongue down Jason's throat.

"Jesus, baby," Jason says. He slides his hands through Tim's hair, tries to figure out the wild look in Tim's eyes that wasn't there seconds before.

"Don't call me that," Tim says, more perfunctory than anything at this point, put he puts his hand around Jason's throat and says, "Fuck me."

"Sure, let's go to the car -"

" _Now_ ," Tim says, and Jason stares at him for a second, licks his lips and says, "Yeah, okay."

He fucks Tim against Bruce's car, bites at the back of Tim's neck, gets Tim's dick in a fucking brutal grip as he slams into him. Tim beats at the hood of the car when he comes, pulls his jeans up as soon as Jason pulls out of him, and by the time he turns around his eyes are back to the normal, blank rage that Jason recognizes.

"What was -" Jason starts, but Tim's already at the car.

"Let's go," he says.

 

*

 

Roy likes the new kid. Everyone _else_ seems to have some kind of fucking problem with him - though Dickie would never say a bad word to the kid's _face_ \- but Roy gets a kick out of Terry. Like Roy, he's more of a thief than a killer, and a better thief, at that, than Roy could ever hope to be. He tells Roy about breaking into art shows, museums, Bruce's _house_ \- and Roy has to admire anyone who isn't dead after _that_.

He reminds Roy of Dick, in a way: so hopped up on drugs Roy feels like he might have to pull him down from the ceiling, always yammering about something or other, and god is he fucking _pretty_.

And yeah, okay, there's something to be said for fucking with _another_ one of Bruce's boys.

They're at his place, and they just finished most of Roy's coke. Roy's on the couch and Terry's on his knees exercising his gag reflex when Tim comes in.

It's like all the air gets sucked out of the room for a minute. Tim looks at him, and there's this flicker of _something_ in his eyes, something that twists Roy up, and then Terry _squeezes_ his balls and Roy's coming, feels like he can't _stop_.

Terry pulls off, wipes his mouth and looks up at Tim. "Hey," he says. "It's Tim, right?"

Tim ignores him. Or - that's not really the right word. Tim looks like he doesn't even _see_ Terry, just looks right at Roy and then walks past both of them, heads for Roy's bedroom.

"Uh," Roy says. He zips back up, looks down at Terry. "So that was fun. I gotta - go do a thing."

Terry smirks. "Is that what they're calling it?"

Roy snorts. "Shut up and go home to Bruce before he misses you, kid."

Terry flips him off, but he gets up and leaves, popping a couple pills when he hits the door.

When Roy gets to the bedroom, Tim's gone and so is the stash he keeps on the nightstand, almost certainly flushed down the toilet. He calls Jason, but there's no answer, and everyone knows there's no real way to get a hold of _Tim_.

He doesn't bother to close the window that Tim climbed out of. He smokes a bowl and waits.

 

*

 

They're working a job for Bruce: Tim, Jason and Roy plus Terry since Dick's out of the damn country. Jason doesn't say a word to Terry while they go over details, still can't fucking believe Bruce is _including_ him in anything, but funnily enough neither does Tim.

Tim and Jason are on their own, working corpse duty while Roy and Terry work on cracking some rich fucker's safe.

"Well," Jason says. "I know why _I_ can't fucking stand him. What's _your_ deal?"

Tim pulls his knife out of someone, wipes the blade off on his jeans before he looks up at Jason. "Who said I had a deal?"

Jason raises his eyebrows. "Tim," he says. "I know you're not exactly an expert at social interaction to begin with, but at one point he asked a question and I thought you were gonna _kill_ him."

Tim shrugs. "It was a stupid question."

"Yeah, maybe," Jason says. He takes a step forward, tries, "He's fucking with Roy, huh?"

"Jason -" Tim says, and it doesn't sound like a warning, but it is.

"Yeah," Jason says. "Look, the thing with Roy -"

Tim knocks him to the ground.

Twenty minutes later, Roy and Terry come back to find Jason on the floor, his shirt open while Tim carves into him, Tim riding his dick. There are half a dozen bodies around them but Tim doesn't see them, or maybe he _does_ and that makes it better.

"Guys," Roy says, grabbing himself through his jeans. "Kinda on a timeframe here?""

"Oh, don't make them _stop_ ," Terry says.

Jason ignores them both, gets his hand in Tim's hair and drags him down until Tim makes the smallest sound. "Come on, baby," Jason murmurs in his ear. "Come for me."

"Fuck you," Tim says, but then he's coming, digging his nails into Jason's shoulders and driving himself down onto Jason.

They're alone again when Jason looks up, and Tim pulls off of him, tucks his knife away and pulls his jeans back on. 

 

*

 

Roy doesn't see Tim for three weeks. He comes home from working a job with Dick, smelling like smoke and gasoline, and Tim's just _there_ , sitting on the floor of his apartment.

Roy smiles at him. "Just like old times, huh? You disappear -"

Tim's up like a shot, crossing the distance between them in seconds and shoving Roy back against the doorframe, one hand over Roy's throat and the other gripping his knife.

"Heh," Roy says. "Always figured I'd die in a knife fight."

Tim's grip loosens on Roy's throat, but just slightly.

"Jay know you're back?" Roy asks. "He even tried to _call_ you. I told him he might as well use smoke signals -"

Tim doesn't answer, just lets Roy go and drops to his knees.

"Oh," Roy says. Tim works his jeans open, takes his dick out and swallows him down. "Fuck, Tim…"

It's all he can say for a while. No one gives head like Tim does; no one _enjoys_ it the way Tim does. Roy's seen him suck Jason off and then him, leaving his mouth swollen and bruised, his hair a mess from both of them pulling so hard.

He knows better than to go easy on Tim. He grabs Tim and fucks into his mouth, watches Tim pant and drool for him, one hand on Roy's balls and his free hand in his jeans, working himself.

"God, baby," Roy says, doesn't even know _what_ he's saying. "Fucking _missed_ you, you asshole."

He gets teeth for that, gets Tim's nails scraping down his thigh, but it's _worth_ it when he feels his orgasm building, sees Tim's eyes rolling back in his head because he's already coming just from _this_.

"Fuck," Roy says. "Tim, let me - let me come on your face, please, I -"

Tim looks up at him, same dead eyes, but he pulls off Roy with a slurping, sucking noise and Roy jerks himself until he comes, getting Tim's mouth, his chin, his neck, a little on that Pixies shirt he stole from Jason.

Roy pushes him down to the floor and licks him clean, stopping to kiss Tim until neither of them can breathe, until Tim bites down on his lip and blood mingles with come.

"Hey," Roy says a few minutes later. They've moved over to the couch to smoke a bowl, Tim's knife left by the doorway. "You wanna tell me what the hell's going on in that crazy head of yours?"

Tim takes a hit, crawls into Roy's lap and shotguns him. "No," Tim says.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [your mouth should be working for me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4869284) by [ohmcgee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmcgee/pseuds/ohmcgee)




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